Three weeks ago, when we first started working on this house, I thought to myself, “It’s only a little cleaning, a little paint, a little concrete: how hard can it be?” This morning as I woke up to find that I had once again lost the ability to control my legs (My brain sent wave after wave of electrical impulses into my wayward appendages demanding that they get their shit together only to have them respond with their own disgruntled message about vacation days and unreasonable working conditions before giving up and collapsing.) it occurred to me that between work and the house The Husband and I have not had a day off these entire three weeks. Not to mention that most of these work/house extravaganza workdays have been in the twelve-hour range, which I generally find to be less than fantastic. Despite all that however, I do believe I can see a tiny glimpse of light at the end of the housework tunnel. A glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe we might move before my legs and arms form a union and go on strike. I’ve never really thought the all torso look suited me.
Of course, the end of the tunnel has gotten much closer since The Husband and I discovered that masonry is, as it turns out, slightly more difficult than it may at first look and have completely abandoned the floor refinishing project in favor or paying someone and inordinate amount of money to replace our carefully removed tackstrips, punch holes in our lovingly patched floor, and lay down new carpet for our own pets to soil with their filthy habits and frat house antics. Naturally, this is mildly embarrassing. Not that the carpet of ill repute didn’t have to go regardless, but I do wish we hadn’t ripped out the tack strips and patched the floor. There’s a couple of days of my life I would have liked back… At least we were eventually able to get the concrete splatters off of the walls. We didn’t need that paddle mixer anyway. Ahem.
Anywhooooo, let’s talk about the pictures…or lack thereof. It’s not so much that I didn’t take any pictures or that I didn’t intend to take pictures, it’s that I can never remember to take “BEFORE” pictures. Think, for example, of all the projects that I’ve shown you on this website so far: handmade furniture, refinished furniture, decorating, design, art, crafts; I’m not sure I’ve ever remembered to take a before picture. Naturally then, it would only be in keeping with tradition that I didn’t remember to do so this time either. Really, it would be wrong to break with tradition. As such, you’ll have to take my word on the horrors that we first encountered upon our arrival and just picture everything covered in a thin layer of filth and foulness instead.
Upon closer inspection of the contents of my camera, I appear to also have an issue with “after” pictures. Tee Hee. It seems I may be relatively good at blurry or pointless though so, you know, there’s that… I will make a concerted effort to pop in and procure more helpful photographic proof of our handiwork tomorrow. For now I’ll give you a couple extra Baby of Zen’s to tide you over.
And now your baby of Zen: